


The part in which Bucky and Company suffer through quarantine together.

by InkgooSupernova



Series: The Winter System [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autism Spectrum, Based on Personal Experiences, Bucky Barnes Gets a Hug, Bucky Barnes is a host, Bucky became a system due to Hydra trauma and brain fuckery, But the autism was always there, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Inspired by APSHDS, Inspired by personal events, M/M, Multiple Personalities, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Quarantine, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Understimulation, Unreliable Narrator, brief mentions of sex, no beta we die like men, system shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkgooSupernova/pseuds/InkgooSupernova
Summary: Bucky had spent day after day with Captain, doing various activities that attempted to keep away the restless feeling like shooing an unruly cat off a front porch. Bucky joked with Captain. "The other guys aren't taking this too well." Bucky laughed. Captain laughed. Little one James laughed. Even the masked bear that James always clung to seemed to laugh.Soldier did not laugh.Though he was not wrong, the 'other guys' as Bucky always called them were scrambling to keep any semblance of normal schedule and activity.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: The Winter System [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693231
Comments: 27
Kudos: 217





	The part in which Bucky and Company suffer through quarantine together.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in Lauralot's Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower universe. This story is heavily inspired by/based on my own experiences as the host of a DID system as well as being on the spectrum and being stuck in quarantine.
> 
> This is the accidental start to a new series based on a few of our introject alters in a subsystem and how they would interact with their source if they were in their own body intead of ours, hence the strange names.
> 
> Enjoy this confusing ball of fluff and dissociation!

He was pacing the room.

Correction: he had been pacing the room for the past three hours, talking to inanimate objects with eyes that he **swears** can see and hear him. Even if logic states that _that_ is impossible.

The truth is; he has nowhere else to go.

This isn't a mission where he can easily rip a target's intestines out and get back to a sense or normalcy. This isn't even the common chaos of the modern world he has tried so very hard to assimilate himself to.

This is a deadly, unprecedented pandemic.

He'd already learned that you can't punch your way out of a pandemic. Someone who died long ago learned that the hard way.

Images of a frail, spitfire of a man dance through his head. Those are his. He is allowed to keep those. Hydra cannot clean them away anymore. Captain doesn't like the word 'clean'.

"Bucky? You alright?" Captain suddenly appeared at his doorway, knocking against the frame to announce his presence. Captain always knows to never spook a wild animal.

Captain seemed to understand his error the moment he turned towards him, eyes flickering down to the black muzzle resting on his features. Bucky was fast asleep deep in the recesses of his mind, leaving the Soldier to navigate this strange world on his own.

At least he had Captain.

"Hey Soldier, you alright?" Captain asked, earning a nod.

"Going stir-crazy being cooped up in the tower all day?" There was humor in Captain's voice. The Soldier, as well as the other confused beings within this tattered body, had been learning that it is okay to say how they feel. No matter how wrong and dangerous it felt in their gut.

The Soldier nodded once again.

Captain seemed to like that, laughing deep in his chest. The Soldier loved those noises. Weapons do not- he _loved_ them. Recovery is a slow, nonlinear process.

"Let's find you something to do, yeah?" Captain held out his hand to him, giving him the option to take it. It was not a command. Captain does not command.

He slowly walked towards Captain, taking his hand in his own matching, mirrored flesh hand. Captain wanted all of them to get used to the stronger arm, to not be afraid of it.

None of them could help it. It had hurt far too many people.

The Soldier shook the thoughts from his head before they could wrap their sinuous tentacles around his brain and drag them all back down into oblivion. He followed Captain out of his quarters and towards the common room of the tower.

The truth is, they had tried _everything_ to stave off boredom.

Bucky had spent day after day with Captain, doing various activities that attempted to keep away the restless feeling like shooing an unruly cat off a front porch. Bucky joked with Captain. "The other guys aren't taking this too well." Bucky laughed. Captain laughed. Little one James laughed. Even the masked bear that James always clung to seemed to laugh.

Soldier did not laugh.

Though he was not wrong, the 'other guys' as Bucky always called them were scrambling to keep any semblance of normal schedule and activity.

That all went to shit when James started waking up at 1100 hours instead of their much more reasonable 0600 hours.

Captain had allowed it.

"No point in getting up early, huh? Go ahead and sleep in, Jamesy." Captain had hummed one morning, holding the unreasonably exhausted, 260 pounds of four _and a half_ year old against his chest.

The absolute enabler.

Although, the Soldier had not faired much better. James was bored out of his mind after the fifth day in a row of watching toy 'blind-box' unboxing videos on their shared StarkPhone.

The Soldier _hated_ those videos. James always _insisted_ on watching them. The Soldier couldn't stand to be even co-conscious with the child as the incessantly happy, high pitched voices pierced through his ear drums as if the headphones encasing their ears were jamming knives into their canals.

The knives would be less manipulative with probabilities at least. Super-Ultra-Mega-Exclusive Rare knives. Those videos always show the rarest options to get, the ones that get James close to _begging_ to get his hands on. The kind that would require one to buy an entire palette of the shitty plastic toys in order to get one.

And whose fucking idea was it to make blind-box toys that _shit glitter slime?_

Back to their current shared predicament, the Soldier had spent what felt like an eternity keeping entertained through sparing with Captain, cooking whenever the Widow showed up on their floor, and having absolutely rigorous, almost Olympic athletics-level sex with Captain.

He was the only one in this god-forsaken system who got horny, sue him.

But even with all of those activities, as well as every single gadget and gizmo the tower had to offer, none of them could stave off this horrible, painful boredom.

It's not that they didn't _have_ options. It's that none of those options stimulated any of them enough to get back to even a gross approximation of their normal. Whatever the fuck their 'normal' was. It certainly wasn't this.

Painful understimulation, the Soldier played with the words in his head. That sounded about right.

"You still with me, buddy?" Captain's voice pierced through the foggy veil that had draped itself over his brain. They had issues with floating off in thought. The Soldier looked to him, holding his eyes for only a moment. 

Looking people in the eyes was painful and scary, even to the man who died long ago. Always has been, always will be. Captain always understood this.

The Soldier hadn't realized the elevator doors were already open to the common room of the tower. How long had they been standing their as thoughts danced through their combined, empty skull?

"I know it's not much big guy, but it's better than nothing?" Captain tried to sound positive. He knew how bad understimulation hurt his friend, or _friends_ now. It was always painful, even to the man who died long ago. The only thing worse was **over** stimulation, and at this point they'd rather have that than this horrible _nothingness_.

"Everyone else doesn't get painfully bored." The Soldier growled, muffled behind his ironically grounding muzzle. That was technically a lie, as Dr. Banner had issues similar to theirs. There wasn't a word for it back in the 1930s, only 'start acting normal or I'll beat the normal back into you'. Dr. Banner say's the proper term now is being 'on the spectrum'. 

They all think that sounds better than 'normal' and 'not normal'.

"Trust me Bu-Big guy," Captain caught himself, hoping the Soldier didn't notice. He did, but at least Captain tried. "There are lots of people with the same feeling- okay maybe not the _exact_ same feelings but- I- you-" Captain was cute when he stumbled on his words.

"If you were about to offer to fuck me on the common room couch," the Soldier interrupted, he was getting used to that being semi-allowed. "For once I'm not in the mood." That was truly impressive. He almost _always_ felt 'in the mood' for that kind of stuff. The SHIELD therapists labelled him a 'trauma-holder' split that had 'hypersexual' tendencies caused by severe chronic trauma and brain rewiring. They were a weird case.

Red bloomed across Captain's cheeks, the stammering increasing. 

"No-I-That-Soldier no that's not what I-What?" Captain tried his best to get back his firm, steadying voice. Sometimes he had a hard time navigating his newfound, long lost weirdo.

' _Weirdoes_ , now.' Bucky's voice called from somewhere deep in the corners of the Soldier's skull.

"Look, buddy," Captain finally regained his composure, trying extraordinarily hard to not accidentally sound aggressive or annoyed. "I figured, if you wanted, we could have something to eat and just cuddle on the couch with a movie or something?" Captain gestured to the gargantuan, luxurious velvet couch facing parallel to the equally monstrous television.

The Soldier knocked the idea around in his skull for a moment. What other options did any of them have? Pacing their shared quarters until a mote formed around their bed? James brought up images of ornate storybook castles with motes filled to the brim with snapping crocodiles. They all got distracted very easily by one-another. 

"Please not another unboxing video." The Soldier was begging, sue him. Those videos _drove him up the fucking wall_. Captain laughed at this.

"No, no, Jamesy finished that playlist the other day." Did he? He couldn't remember. With his luck, James won't remember either and will rewatch _every. Single. Video._

Fuck dissociative amnesia.

"I've been hearing a lot about this documentary on Netflix, it's about, like, this guy who owns _tigers_ and-" Captain's voice continued on into a mildly enthusiastic hum as their head filled with pictures of a short cartoon child with a plush tiger that acted as if it were a real, viscous, protective beast. James liked those comics, even if Soldier thought they were far too adult in humor for him. Ironic.

James called the Soldier 'Hobbs' for a week. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be offended or honored.

"Wanna watch it? Or there's other stuff like-" Captain had moved them both to the couch, the Soldier had not even realized they had moved. Everything felt both too light and too heavy all at once, as if his entire being was existing, but to the left of their body. The therapists called it dissociation. They were not stressed or scared, why were they suddenly dissociating? A headache began to form behind their eyes.

Great. Switch headache. Fan-fucking- _tastic_.

"Someth'ng safe." He mumbled. Captain knew that sudden change in demeanor all too well at this point, ready to switch gears at an almost moment's notice.

"Alright, uh, how about-" he switched the TV from Netflix to Disney Plus- why the fuck were there so many different streaming services?- and onto a documentary about penguins and orcas living in the antarctic waters. Neutral enough, the Soldier supposed. Enough predator-versus-prey action for him, cute penguins and baby orcas for James, and a non-threatening narrator for Bucky.

"Popcorn, or chips?" Captain-Daddy-Steve asked, letting them-him have the option to choose. Everything was so much more difficult when their head was swimming through dissociative fog.

"Uh..." Someone began. The Soldier tried to focus, staring at something in the middle distance to try and focus on the question. Questions were always so confusing. Some days, James wouldn't stop asking questions, every answer responded with an insistent 'why?'. Daddy never got annoyed with him, neither did uncle Falcon-the Sam- _fuck_.

Wait, what was the question?

"...uh..." Was all he could manage, trying to keep his arms and legs inside the vehicle at the current time. Floating was far too easy when they were already halfway out of their body.

Capt-Da-Steve finally caught on, either by the vacant stare or the distracted non-answer. He squeezed his-their-his flesh hand before standing up and walking towards the kitchen area.

He hadn't even been two seconds before Ca-D-Steve came back, yet the clock read that 5 minutes had passed since he last checked it. They all hated the time-jumping.

"Here, I got both, just in case anyone wants one more than the other. I also got some juice, you don't have to drink it if you don't want to, but at least drink some water with the saltiness, okay?" C-D-Steve explained. He could barely focus, the world sounded like someone had shoved cotton balls into their ears. Nevertheless, he nodded, taking the bag of oddly cone-shaped chips.

"Uhh, pal..." Ste-Captain started, but it was too late. The Soldier had already shoved the now crumbled fake-cheddar cone-chips directly against his muzzle.

There was a pause as realization finally dawned on them. Followed by a booming laugh.

The Soldier was about to shove the Captain for laughing at him, before he realized it was coming from his own mouth.

"Soldier you fucking dumbass!" Bucky's voice, less rough and more open, howled with laughter at the sight of themselves. The Soldier was fuming, humiliated for such a stupid reason as a lapse in judgement.

"Aww don't get pissy, big guy." Bucky continued to mock, reaching behind their head to unclip the now dirty, crumb covered muzzle and placing it on the coffee table. "No big deal, right Stevie?" Bucky hummed, their heavy limbed body leaning towards the other and pressing a chaste kiss to his confused face.

No matter how long they had been living with Steve and the other Avengers in the tower, none of them ever got over how jarring it was to hear them switch voices and mindsets so quickly.

"Uh, heh, yeah Buck," Ste-Ca-Steve laughed awkwardly, still trying to gauge the waters he was now treading through. Bucky spared mercy on him and leaned their body into his side, resting their foggy head against his shoulder.

If there was one thing they could all agree on, it was that Rogers was the best thing to cuddle in the world.

The documentary had already ended by the time their brain was back to a non-dissociated, remotely clear state. Ironically, James had been the one to take on the controls, snuggled close to his Daddy with his thumb securely fastened between their tongue and the roof of their mouth. Both bags of snacks as well as the cups of juice sat on the coffee table, long emptied by the two.

"D'ddy?" James's small, slightly lisped voice mumbled from around the metal digit in his mouth.

"Hm? Yeah Jamesy?" They weren't sure if Daddy already knew they had switched, or if he just now found out.

Jamesy. He always liked that name Daddy called him. Maybe that should be his name instead of just James. A name all his own. He couldn't help the way his flesh hand flapped in his internal excitement. Daddy never seemed to mind when they did 'strange' things when they were happy. Hydra tried to burn that out of their skull with everything else, so it was only fair they not be judged for it anymore. They think the man who died long ago must have moved in a similar way when he was excited, because it always made Daddy smile.

"Can we watch Bluey?" Jamesy asked, he had been on a kick of that Australian cartoon for a few weeks now. The others found it harmless enough, even Soldier found himself occupied with it every once in a while when he happened to be co-conscious.

"Of course, pal." Steve squeezed his shoulders, using his free hand to grab the remote and flick the screen to the next episode that had been rewatched for the upteenth time.

"Daddy?" Jamesy asked again, this time a little more shy, almost afraid.

"Yeah buddy?" Daddy asked, looking down to the crown of their head resting against his chest.

"...Can m' name be _Jamesy_ instead'a jus' _James_?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He prayed Daddy wouldn't make him repeat himself. They all hated the feeling of having to repeat themselves, like a lead brick in their mouth keeping them from speaking. The nice people they talked to called that 'selective mutism'.

"If that's what you like, of course." Jamesy could hear Daddy's smile in his words. "Your name is for you to decide, that is _yours_."

All of them felt a sudden wave of relief from the anxiety they hadn't even realized was building in their chest.

Jamesy relaxed deeper into his Daddy's chest as the instrumental role-call theme song of the show began. Was it the first or second part of the episodes? He wasn't sure.

"D'ddy?" He mumbled, already starting to doze by the time Bingo explained the fabric swing that their daddy was hanging up for them to their neighbor Judo.

"Yeah, bug?" Daddy hummed, rubbing his shoulder gently. He liked that feeling, very secure and comforting.

"I lov' y'u Daddy." He hummed, nuzzling his face against his Daddy's shirt.

"I love you too, Jamesy." Daddy responded, the reassurance of his new name's acceptance a warm wash over his heart.

Maybe this quarantine wasn't so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> **References:**
> 
> The documentary Steve mentions is Tiger King on Netflix.
> 
> The Comic Jamesy remembers is Calvin and Hobbs.
> 
> The ocean documentary they end up watching is Deep Blue on Disney Plus.
> 
> The cartoon they watch afterwards is Bluey on Disney Plus, the episode mentioned is Butterfly.
> 
> **Brief Explanations:**
> 
> In this universe, Bucky and the Soldier are in an established relationship with Steve. It is not mentioned, but they have strict boundaries set up to avoid trauma issues with their system little Jamesy. Systems can be in perfectly healthy and happy relationships even if they have child alters. It is also not mentioned, but Bucky is sex-repulsed ace due to trauma. In turn, the Soldier is a trauma-holder protector with hypersexual tendencies. There is an unmentioned but briefly referenced fourth alter who is Winnie/Bucky Bear, who will appear in later stories.
> 
> These interactions are based on our own personal experiences as a DID system. This is based on if our introjects of Soldier, Jamesy, and Winnie, were in their own body in their source universe as Bucky as their host instead of myself. The characters within these stories are fictional, but some events and interactions are based on real life, personal events.
> 
> These are based on **personal experiences** and are not a scientific basis or professional explaination for either DID systems or Autism Spectrum Neurodivergency. No two people, let alone no two systems, are exactly the same.


End file.
